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  Rick hooked a tattooed arm around her neck, dragging her into another one of his moist kisses.

  “Do I have to spell it out for you? Relax, baby. You might even have a good time yourself.”

  Jessica slithered adroitly from his drunken clinch and stood up. “Sorry, Rick,” she said, in command of herself once again, “but I’d have a better time with an octopus. Thanks for nothing. I think I’ll just call a cab.”

  “Wait a minute,” Rick hissed, grabbing her hand and jerking her back into the booth. “You’re not going anywhere!”

  Jessica let out a yelp as blunt fingers encircled her wrist. She struggled to free herself. A man sitting at a bar stool nearby swiveled around to see what was going on.

  “He giving you trouble, miss?” the man asked.

  “Yes,” Jessica announced in a loud voice. “I have to go home, and he won’t let me go!”

  The man grinned. He was probably about her father’s age, only rougher looking—in a funny kind of nice way. Like a cross between a teddy bear and Jaws.

  “I’d be glad to give you a lift home if your boyfriend won’t,” he said.

  “Thanks,” Jessica said, “but he’s not my boyfriend.”

  She had succeeded in wrenching away and was halfway to the door when Rick lunged after her, his black eyes spitting fire.

  “Out of the way, lard bucket!” he growled at the man, who had stepped in front of him.

  At that moment Jessica felt as if all the air in that smoky room had been sucked out. She could hardly breathe. As she watched in horror, Rick hunched forward, swinging his fist in a wide, drunken arc. The man easily blocked the punch. His own ham-sized fist exploded against Rick’s jaw with an audible crack. Rick reeled backward, crashing into a table and knocking over several chairs. A trickle of blood oozed from one corner of his mouth.

  Jessica stood frozen, unaware that any time had passed, until the howl of a siren brought her back to her senses with a sickening snap. The next thing she knew, there were two policemen barreling into the bar. One of them headed straight for Rick, who lay sprawled on the floor amid the cigarette butts, mumbling curses at everyone in sight.

  “This time I’m pressing charges,” the bartender was yelling. “His name’s Andover, and this isn’t the first time he’s tried to bust up my place!”

  The other policeman took Jessica aside. “Do your parents know you’re here, young lady?” he demanded sternly.

  “Oh, no, please, please don’t tell them,” she begged, tears pouring down her cheeks. She didn’t have to turn on the waterworks—this time they were for real. “They would just kill me if they found out!”

  “I doubt that,” he answered, but his tone softened slightly. “Maybe it’s best for your parents to find out. They might stop you from doing something even worse the next time. Now, why don’t you give me your name?”

  Panic swept through Jessica. Arrested! Taken home by the police from Kelly’s! She’d be absolutely ruined—besides being grounded for five hundred years!

  “Uh … Wakefield…” she managed to choke.

  “Wakefield, huh?” The cop peered closely at her. “Sure, I know you. You’re a friend of my niece, Emily Mayer. I’ve heard her mention Elizabeth Wakefield.”

  “Emily? Oh, sure!” Jessica ignored his mistake. “Emily’s a terrific drummer, and the Droids are the hottest band in Sweet Valley,” she babbled in relief.

  The cop jotted something down in his notebook “OK, young lady,” he said. “Let’s get you home where you belong.”

  In the squad car Jessica began sobbing again with renewed desperation. She pulled out all the stops—every plea she could think of, from the trauma of being scarred for life to the fact that her father was a lawyer, and his reputation could be ruined. The cop said nothing until he’d pulled to a stop in front of her house.

  Then he turned to her. “Listen,” he said, giving her a long, hard look. “I’m going to let you off this time. No thanks to Niagara Falls, either. I just happen to believe in second chances.”

  “Oh, thank you, Officer!” Jessica leaped from the car like someone who had just been reprieved from death row. “I swear it’ll never happen again!”

  “It’d better not,” he called after her as she bounded up the driveway. “Stay away from Rick Andover. I don’t want to see you in the middle of any more brawls at Kelly’s. And keep in mind, Elizabeth, I don’t believe in third chances.”

  “Wait, I’m not—” She started to tell him she wasn’t Elizabeth. Now that she was out of danger, she was suddenly stricken by a guilty conscience for letting him think she was her twin. But the squad car had already disappeared into the night.

  Blinded by her overwhelming relief, Jessica hadn’t seen the girl who walked past with a little black poodle on a leash. She probably wouldn’t have noticed it was Caroline Pearce, her sorority sister and three-doors-down neighbor, even if she’d bumped into her. Jessica was so happy to have been let off the hook, she practically flew up the front steps to her house.

  Caroline was heading home, too, straight for the white Princess phone in her bedroom, which served as the central switchboard for Sweet Valley High gossip.…

  Seven

  Elizabeth looked out her bedroom window to see what kind of day it was. No big surprise. The morning was bright and sunny, as it almost always was in Sweet Valley. Why can’t you get a cloudy day when you really need one? she mused. OK, Liz, she told herself sternly. Get your act together. If Todd preferred Jessica, that’s the way it was.

  Elizabeth scanned the room. It was her haven, her sanctuary. She had decorated it herself. She had chosen the off-white carpeting, had painted the walls a soft cream, and had picked out the bed frame and matching dresser. She had also put up the two mirrors in the room, a small one over the dresser and a full-length one on the back of the door. One whole wall was a closet with louvered doors.

  Instead of a desk, Elizabeth had decided on a large rectangular table. It held her typewriter, reference books, paper, and a ceramic holder for pens and pencils. And right above the table was a theater poster of Jason Robards in A Touch of the Poet. She didn’t think she would ever be as good a writer as Eugene O’Neill, but it was a terrific-looking poster—and she was, after all, a writer.

  Elizabeth looked longingly at the one curious piece of furniture in the room, a chaise longue she had found in a thrift shop and re-covered in a soft, pale velvet. Maybe she could just curl up there for the day, or maybe for the rest of her life. Then her eyes zeroed in on the digital clock-radio on her nightstand. Oh, no, she thought. I’m not only miserable down to my toes, but I’m going to get an F in science if I miss Mr. Russo’s test!

  She grabbed her knapsack and dashed out of the room, nearly knocking over Jessica, who was heading for the stairs.

  “Liz!” Jessica yelped.

  “Sorry, Jess. I just checked the time. We’re going to be late! Are you ready for Russo’s test?”

  “Tests! Tests! Tests!” Jessica grumbled as the two went down the stairs. “Doesn’t that man realize there are more important things to do at school besides take tests? Of course I’m not ready!”

  Elizabeth headed for the front door. “I don’t have time for breakfast. See you in school!”

  “Wait, Liz, there’s something I have to talk to you about. It’s absolutely urgent!”

  “No time, Jess. I promised Enid I’d meet her before first period. Later!” And she was gone before Jessica could tell her about the night before.

  “Well, if meeting that wimpy Enid Rollins is more important than talking to her own sister…” Jessica muttered. Maybe nobody at school would find out about last night, she thought. “Yeah, fat chance. Maybe school will be canceled on account of a snowstorm.”

  * * *

  Elizabeth spotted Enid sitting by herself. As she made her way across the broad green lawn, Elizabeth wondered what the latest “absolutely vital” matter was that Enid wanted to see her about. As she passed a group of boys, she
noticed that they were staring at her. Before she could check to be sure she had all her clothes on, Bruce Patman stepped out of the group. He was smirking.

  “Didn’t know you had it in you, Wakefield. Really awesome.”

  “What?” Elizabeth stopped short and faced Bruce.

  “You know, Wakefield, you know. And now I know.”

  “The only thing I know, Patman, is that you seem to be missing a few marbles,” Elizabeth snapped. She turned her back on the group and walked over to Enid.

  “Liz, I thought you’d never get here,” Enid said, jumping to her feet.

  “I just got waylaid by Mr. Wonderful,” Elizabeth said, nodding in Bruce Patman’s direction.

  “You mean the gorgeous Bruce Patman?”

  “Don’t forget rich, Enid.”

  “Oh, yes. Gorgeous, rich, and let’s not leave out—ta da!—star of the tennis team.” Both girls started giggling. Most girls at Sweet Valley High would kill for a date with the son of the town’s richest and oldest family, but not Elizabeth or Enid.

  Suddenly getting serious, Enid asked, “What was Bruce saying to you?”

  Elizabeth thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. He was totally weird. He said something about not knowing I had it in me, whatever it is.”

  “Oh.” Enid looked down at her shoes.

  “Oh? Do you know what he was talking about?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think so. Liz, I want you to know that you’re my best friend. And I’ll always be your best friend, no matter what.”

  “No matter what? Enid, what are you talking about?”

  “I know something about making mistakes, Liz, and I meant it when I said we’re friends. I don’t want you to worry about losing my friendship. Ever.”

  Elizabeth stared openmouthed at her friend. What was the matter with everybody today?

  “Enid, get to the point! Have I suddenly grown another head?”

  “Liz, I know there are some things you think you can never tell anybody, but—oh, there’s Ronnie waving at me. I have to talk to him before first bell.” Enid seemed almost relieved to delay her conversation with her friend. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”

  Elizabeth stared in complete puzzlement as Enid hurried across the lawn toward Ronnie Edwards, who stood there frowning.

  * * *

  “Is something wrong, Ronnie?” Enid would die if Ronnie were mad at her. She felt her heart begin to race.

  “Why were you talking to her?” he asked, still frowning.

  “To Liz? She’s my best friend!”

  “Maybe you should be more careful about choosing friends. Everybody’s talking about that stunt she pulled last night.”

  “Everybody? Ronnie, that’s not true. Besides, we haven’t heard Liz’s side yet.”

  “Enid, it’s all over campus. Caroline Pearce saw the squad car bring Liz home. She went to Kelly’s with Rick Andover and started a riot. You really want to be friends with someone like that?” Ronnie said accusingly.

  “We’re not sure about all that, Ronnie. It’s just a lot of rumors. I can’t believe she’d go out with Rick. She’s my friend, and I’m going to stick by her, no matter what.”

  The sound of the bell cut off whatever Ronnie was going to say. But Enid knew he was angry.

  * * *

  What an absolutely unbelievable day, Elizabeth thought as she reached her front door. It was like being in the Twilight Zone. Everywhere she went, she got strange looks. Kids stopped talking as soon as she approached—in the lunchroom, in the library, in the halls. And what in the world was Enid trying to tell her?

  Even Mr. Collins had insisted on being mysterious about some kind of problem with the school football field. She remembered her father mentioning the same thing the other morning at breakfast, but he wouldn’t elaborate, either. It was spooky, and the day wasn’t over yet.

  As soon as she opened the door, Elizabeth heard angry voices coming from the kitchen.

  “Steve, you were supposed to go back to school last night,” Alice Wakefield said.

  “Mom, don’t get uptight. I didn’t miss anything important today.”

  “That’s not the point. You’re being very secretive. Your father and I are concerned about you.”

  “I didn’t know you and Dad had time for anything except work these days.”

  “Steve!”

  “Sorry, Mom. I just don’t like being hassled. Look, I’ve got to go. See you Friday.”

  Elizabeth entered the room just as Steven was opening the back door.

  “Bye, Liz. Bye, Mom.” He was gone.

  Elizabeth and her mother exchanged confused looks.

  “What’s with Steve, Mom?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  “I don’t—”

  The sharp ring of the phone interrupted Elizabeth.

  “I’ll get it, Mom! Hello?” She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “It’s for me. I’ll take it on the upstairs extension. Hang it up for me, Mom.”

  “Sure. Then I’ve got to meet a client. Dad will be late, too. And there’s a casserole in the freezer for you and Jessica,” she said, having to shout the last because Elizabeth was already upstairs. She was her usual organized self, but she sounded distracted, as if she had her own problems as well.

  “Enid!” Elizabeth nearly shouted into the phone. “Talk to me! Tell me what’s going on!”

  Less than a minute later, a stunned Elizabeth was gasping for breath.

  “I don’t believe this! I was arrested, put on parole, and brought home in a squad car! Enid, that is the wildest, most idiotic, most— In Kelly’s with Rick Andover? No wonder everybody—! They’re lies, Enid, I would never…!”

  When Elizabeth stopped to catch her breath, Enid filled her in on all the gruesome details.

  “Caroline Pearce said she saw you, Liz. She said the policeman called you by name, that he has your name in his book, and that you’re on parole! But, Liz, you and I are friends, no matter—”

  “Stop saying that, Enid! There is no ‘matter.’ I don’t know why Caroline would spread lies about me. For heaven’s sake, I’ve never even spoken to Rick Andover!”

  In a flash, though, Elizabeth realized that she did know someone who would speak to him—Jessica! But Caroline had heard the policeman say Elizabeth, not Jessica. She had to get to the bottom of this. There was only one person who would have the answers, and that blond duplicate of herself should be home any minute.

  “Enid, I don’t know how in the world all this started, but I can’t talk any more now,” she said abruptly. “I’ll call you back later. Bye!”

  She hung up and went into her room. She paced from the window to the door, waiting for her sister to get home.

  It was a nightmare. Please let it be a nightmare! But Elizabeth knew she was wide awake. Suddenly the most awful, totally terrible thought popped into her head. Todd! Todd Wilkins had heard this story! Maybe he even believed it! I’ve got to tell him the truth, she decided. But what was the truth?

  The front door slammed, and a breathless Jessica ran upstairs, calling, “Liz! Liz, where are you?”

  Jessica bolted into Elizabeth’s room. The sisters stood facing one another, identical expressions on their lovely faces. Total panic.

  “You’ve heard. I can tell you’ve heard, Lizzie!”

  “Have I ever!”

  “A thing like this could ruin the entire family, our futures!” She moaned. “What are we going to do?”

  “Let’s start with Rick Andover, Jess.”

  “Rick Andover? What’s he got to do with anything?”

  “He has everything to do with all the kids in school thinking I have a police record and that I’m out on parole!” Elizabeth shouted, for once making no effort to control her temper.

  “Oh, that.” Jessica shrugged, flushing guiltily. “I can clear that little thing up in no time.”

  “Do it now!” Elizabeth said.

  “Later, Liz! I’m talking about
something really important. I found out this afternoon why Steve has been coming home every weekend. No wonder he’s been so mysterious and obnoxious to everybody. He should be ashamed of himself! My whole life is going to go right down the tubes! How could he do this, Lizzie?” She began to cry.

  “Stop babbling, Jess! And stop crying! Tell me what Steve has done.”

  “Our brother, a member of the Wakefield family, has been spending every weekend,” Jessica got out between sobs, “with Betsy Martin!”

  A stunned silence filled the room. Elizabeth plopped down onto her bed, all thoughts of her own troubles pushed aside. Steven was seeing Betsy Martin?

  “Jess, are you sure? I can’t believe it. Betsy’s been doing drugs for years—she sleeps around—”

  “And her father gets bombed out of his mind every night,” Jessica said wildly.

  A new worry occurred to Elizabeth. “Jess, what are Mom and Dad going to say when they find out?”

  “Mom and Dad? Liz, what about the kids? I will be totally ruined forever when this gets around school! And you, too.”

  “I’m ruined already,” Elizabeth cried. “Will you please tell me what this Rick Andover business is all about!”

  “Later, Lizzie, please.”

  “No, I want to know right now!”

  Eight

  “Oh, Lizzie, it was so awful!” Jessica wailed, bursting into tears. “There was drinking and fighting, and Rick had his hands all over—”

  “Rick!” Elizabeth cut in. “Did you say Rick? You mean you weren’t with Todd?” Elizabeth was so relieved, she felt her anger deflate like a punctured balloon.

  “I wish I had been with Todd,” said Jessica. “He would never have taken me to that awful place! I’m telling you, it was all Rick’s fault. He practically dragged me in there, for heaven’s sake!”

  “If it was all Rick’s fault,” Elizabeth asked, suspiciously, “then how come the police ended up with my name?” She wasn’t letting Jessica worm her way out of it this time.

  “It was a mix-up, Liz,” Jessica cried. “You’ve got to believe me! The cop was Emily’s uncle, and he said he recognized you, and—”